


Bring the Spark and We'll Light a Fire

by wildhalos



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Smut, the basics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-23
Updated: 2013-01-23
Packaged: 2017-11-26 15:30:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/651833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildhalos/pseuds/wildhalos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four different scenarios in which Harry is eighteen, Louis is twenty-one, and they just can't get enough of each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bring the Spark and We'll Light a Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Basically I couldn't let the fandom inch any closer to Harry's birthday without age gap fic.

**ONE.**  
  
Harry has quite the reputation in his high school. You don’t spend four years perfecting The Curls, and The Dimples, and The Charm without turning a few heads. Yes, Harry Styles could have absolutely anyone in the building at his mercy with one conversation: students, teachers, girls and boys alike, he could gladly take his pick. Needless to say, there was almost a third world war when word got out that Harry’s person of choice was not a member of the school, but, in fact, an older guy.  
  
No one really knew too much about twenty-one year old Louis Tomlinson, other than that he’d moved to the small town less than a year ago with his mother and a gaggle of little sisters. He was one of those gorgeous, mysterious types to everyone in the town. And he took an instant liking to one Harry Styles, not that Harry was complaining.  
  
 _Girl in my French class keeps asking about my hot, older boyfriend. If I didn’t know any better I’d think she’s trying to steal you from me.._  
  
Harry smiles as he sends off the message. God only knows how he’d manage to get through his days without his constant stream of conversations with Louis. He smiles when his phone buzzes in response.  
  
 **Hmm. She hot?**  
  
 _Nope, not at all. Red head, almost orange actually. Her nails are too long and she looks kind of like a potato. Also, she smells bad :P_  
  
 **What are you talking about? That’s exactly my type!! Give her my number ;)**  
  
 _Oh fuck off, you twat :(_  
  
 **Don’t be jealous, H**  
  
 _I’m not!!_  
  
 **I’m sure. And what are you telling this girl about your hot, older boyfriend?**  
  
 _That you take me away to hot clubs in the city and have your wicked way with me ;)_  
  
 **Harry! I’ve never been anything but respectable with you!**  
  
 _Really Lou..you call that respectable??_  
  
 **Shh! The government might be tapping our phones. They’ll have me taken away for corrupting a minor.**  
  
 _Shut up! I’m 18. I can let whoever I want corrupt me._  
  
 **I’ll remember that. Shouldn’t you be, like, learning or something??**  
  
 _Je deteste l’ecole_  
  
 **I took Spanish, babe.**  
  
Harry’s about to reply when he hears someone clear their throat and he looks up to see Madame Maurine’s eyes drilling a whole into him. Sheepishly, he puts his phone away for safe keeping and gets back to conjugating his verbs. He knows he’ll talk to Louis later.  
  
And later can’t come soon enough. He’s the first one out of his chair when the final bell rings, and he’s flinging himself to the nearest exit.  
  
“Hey Harry! You wanna hang out today? No? Okay,” he hears an Irish twang call after him with nothing but amusement in his voice, obviously teasing his friend’s eagerness.  
  
“I’ll see you tomorrow Niall!” he calls back. At the entrance to the school he stops momentarily to compose himself because, wow, wouldn’t it be embarrassing if Louis saw him panting like a little puppy dog for him. Giving his hair one good toss and straightening his jacket, he make his way out the door, the epitome of cool and casual. He spots Louis instantly, leaning against the side of his car, playing with his keys, the sun hitting his cheekbones in a way that almost turns Harry to mush right then and there. But he keeps it cool-- he’s Harry fucking Styles for god’s sake—and makes his way over.  
  
Louis’s eyes light up when he sees him. “Hey babe,” he greets him, grabbing for his waist as soon as Harry’s in grabbing distance. “How was school?”  
  
“Horrible. Save me please.” Harry begs the sentiment into Louis’s neck, loving the smell of his cologne as it overtakes his senses.  
  
“I think I can manage that,” Louis says and he reaches up to press a small kiss to Harry’s lip, his tongue licking inside the boy’s mouth for only a second. It’s enough to have Harry’s head spinning for minutes after. “Get in,” Louis orders him, stepping away from his embrace and opening the car door for him. Harry doesn’t hesitate even for a second.  
  
They go to the lake on the edge of town and Louis dares Harry to jump in even though the water must be too cold for comfort. But it’s Louis, so it’s not as if Harry has much choice in the matter. He’s almost jumping out of his skin with glee when Louis strips down and joins him, blinding him with the water torrent he splashes his way. Once they’ve tired, Louis finds some towels in the back of his trunk, and they sit on the car’s hood talking about anything that comes to mind.  
  
Harry tells Louis about everything he’s going to do once he graduates, first step being getting out of this town. It’s not that he hates it or anything. There’s just nothing much to offer him in terms of being anything fascinating. He confesses that he wants to be a singer, and Louis doesn’t even laugh.  
  
“You’re good; I’ve heard you,” he says instead. Harry wants to move off to the city, wants to experience something other than small town quaintness. Louis loves listening to him talk, hearing the optimism of someone so young.  
  
“You don’t think I can make it in the city?” Harry asks and he plays mock affronted, but Louis knows he’s actually worried about what his experienced older boyfriend will say.  
  
“No, I think you could. I just like hearing you sound so happy about it all.”  
  
“You should come with me! Show me the lay of the land. And we can live together so I don’t have to sneak you into my house every other night,” he says playfully poking Louis’s side. How they’ve managed to not get caught in that charade so far is beyond both of them, as Louis really does find himself sneaking into the Styles’ household under cover of darkness almost every night. The nights he doesn’t, Harry sneaks out to see him instead. It’s a tricky system, and they’ve both gotten quite skillful at it, if they were to toot their own horns.  
  
“Sounds like a good plan to me,” Louis answers, and the smile that lights up Harry’s face is somewhat blinding.  
  
“God,” he says leaning back and letting his hands rest behind his head. “That sounds so much better than staying here week after week for school.”  
  
“Hey tomorrow’s Friday; that’s something to look forward to right?”  
  
“Barely.”  
  
“Oh cheer up, you downer. Hey, you make it through one whole day of school without complaining and I’ll have a surprise waiting for you afterwards, okay?”  
  
Harry gives Louis a cursory glance out the side of his eye. “What kind of surprise?” he asks, suspicion laced in his voice.  
  
“Well obviously I can’t tell you that, dipshit.” He kicks him with his bare foot.  
  
Harry only smirks. “Alright fine. But this better be good, Tomlinson,” and even as Harry says it, he has no doubt it will be.  
  
\--  
  
Harry can barely contain himself the next day. Turns out school isn’t so bleak when you have something to look forward to after, so he keeps his side of the no complaining deal quite easily. His friends can’t help but notice his change in demeanor.  
  
“What’s up with you?” Niall asks at lunch. “You’ve been acting like you’re hopped up on Sour Patch Kids all day.” Harry barks a laugh at that, and another when he sees Liam’s wary expression.  
  
“I’m just excited, that’s all lads. Louis said he’d have a surprise for me when I got out of school today.”  
  
“Oh? Is loverboy finally gonna pop your cherry then?” Niall asks between bites of potato chips. Liam gives him a slap on the arm for his troubles. Harry opts to ignore the both of them, too wired up to care about anything anyway.  
  
If he was normally quick to get out the door at the end of the school day, today he’s a fucking bolt of lightning. On his quest to the door, he almost knocks over the librarian, but after a well calculated smile she seems ready to forgive him. He really should learn to contain himself before he loses all the cool points he’s worked up over the years. Finally, _finally_ he makes it out the exit.  
  
“I didn’t complain once today,” he boasts as soon as he makes it to Louis’s form against the car.  
  
“Accomplishment of the century, that.” Louis teases, but Harry only nods in agreement and boxes Louis in closer to the side door.  
  
“Yep,” he whispers, “now where’s my surprise?”  
  
Stepping away from Harry, Louis gestures for him to get in the car and he has an air of mischievousness to him. They go to a friend of Louis’s, and Harry’s only a little upset that they’re not spending the time alone.  
  
“Zayn, my man,” Louis says upon entering. “You got my stuff then?” The boy nods giving Harry an obvious once over to which Louis slaps him for. “Hey, eyes off,” he points a finger in Harry’s direction and resolutely says, “Mine.” And well if that doesn’t lift Harry’s spirits he doesn’t know what will. Zayn, however, only shrugs and beckons them inside. “It’s in the kitchen,” he yells out making his way somewhere back into the flat.  
  
Louis smiles and grabs hold of Harry’s hand weaving them through the small sitting area. “Okay so I’m sure you’ve at least tried this before” Louis says as a precursor, “but I’m also sure that whatever you were able to get your hands on was shit compared to this.” At the last part he holds up a little baggy, and Harry’s eyes are alight before he can even get his hand on it.  
  
\--  
  
Being with Louis is always fun. Smoking weed with Louis is fucking hilarious. Harry’s tried it before, but only just barely, and Louis had been right about whatever he had before not comparing to what Louis has gotten him now. Liam had been concerned about the boys picking up some kind of bad smoking habit and had only allowed them to hot box the smoke rather than take it directly. Consequently, Harry almost hacked up a lung on his first tug, face going an impressive shade of red from lack of oxygen as well as embarrassment. “Aww babe,” Louis had sang to him. “Here let me help you,” he offered and after taking a long drag he leaned forward to press his mouth to Harry’s, gently nudging his lips apart so the smoke could spill sultrily into Harry’s mouth. It’s easily the hottest thing he‘s ever done, and even Louis was impressed with himself, not that he would mention it out loud.  
  
Right now, Harry’s in a fit of giggles because a shadow that crossed the wall looked like a bunny with a sword and “didn’t you see it Louis? See! Hahaha bunnies don’t have swords that would be ridicoulous” Louis is patient with him as he chokes out laughter contemplating what two bunnies would look like in knight armor riding horses. Yeah, whatever grade Louis got for him is really, really good.  
  
“Alright,” Louis finally says. “I think you’ve had enough. We’re not even done for the night.”  
  
“We’re not?” Harry says, suddenly excited.  
  
“Nah, I wanna take you somewhere later. But right now I think you need to come down a bit.”  
  
He leans back onto the couch where they’ve placed themselves and brings Harry down by his neck so he can rest on Louis‘s chest. His hands caress at the younger boy’s hair, trying to lull him back to normalcy. Harry likes this. From where he’s lying he can see the stubble on Louis’s chin in full force. His fingers go up to skim the hair, a look of awe on his face. He traces over Louis’s face decidedly clear of blemishes and spots, and he lets his arm rest against the full bicep of his boyfriend beneath him. Twenty-one seems like the most attractive age he can think of just then. He must mumble the sentiment out loud because Louis chuckles and says “I don’t know babe, eighteen looks pretty hot on you, right now.”  
  
Harry hides his face into the older boy’s skin and breaths in the scent he’s come to know as _older, wiser, better, Louis._  
  
\--  
  
In all the time Harry’s spent with Louis, you’d think he’d come to realize that his boyfriend is fucking insane. Jesus Christ, why does he let himself get wrangled into these kinds of things? He should have known this would be bad when Louis had made him change into all black and trainers before they left Zayn’s. Nevertheless, at 10 o’clock Friday night he finds himself stalking through a sketchy neighborhood the next town over mindlessly following Louis’s lead. He thinks most of the weed is out of his system, but his head still feels a little fuzzy. He’s finding it hard to keep up with Louis.  
  
“This way,” the older boys says, directing him into an alley, and okay this is the part of the scary movie where everyone is screaming don’t go in there!, he’s sure of it. But of course he follows, and his eyes almost bulge out of his head when he spots Louis lifting a fucking crowbar of all things.  
  
“Louis wha-“  
  
“Shh!” Louis shushes him, looking around extra alert. “Get over here,” he whispers forcefully, pulling Harry to crouch behind a trash bin. A police car drives by just as they’ve ducked down and when it finally passes, Louis lets out a giant gust of breath.  
  
“Are we doing something illegal?” Harry asks incredulous.  
  
“Frowned upon,” Louis says, blasé.  
  
“OHMYGOD LO-“  
  
“SHH!” Louis says clamping a hand over Harry’s mouth, and he looks about as close to a heart attack as Harry feels. “Okay, a few rules,” he says slowly lowering his hand from Harry’s mouth. “First, shut the fuck up. You’ve got to be _quiet_. Second, if I say run, you run. Don’t question it, alright?”  
  
Adrenaline is pumping throughout Harry’s entire body, but he gives a curt nod. “What are we doing?”  
  
“You’ll see,” is all Louis offers up before he’s going deeper into the workway of alleys, Harry scrambling to stay close to his side. He makes it to a window that’s bolted shut before he stops, using the crowbar to pry it open. “Keep a lookout,” he says to Harry, and wow he has never experienced anything this..dangerous before. His breath is quick, and his palms are sweating, and god he wishes Louis would hurry up with whatever he’s doing already.  
  
“Bingo,” Louis says, mischief in his eyes. Reaching under the space he’s created in the window, he pulls out a handful of beer bottles and flashes a brilliant smile at his accomplice. Harry only looks bewildered. “Louis,” he starts, “we’re both old enough; we could have just bought alcohol if that’s what you wanted.”  
  
Louis only waves him off. “This is more fun. Here,” and he hands two of the bottles to Harry. He has to admit, Louis has a point. Being here, in the dead of the night, risking getting caught at any moment, it’s liberating, it’s—  
  
“Hey! What are you doing there?” they hear someone shout in their direction.  
  
It’s the dumbest fucking thing Harry’s ever done in his life is what it is.  
  
Louis’s eyes look like they’re about to pop out of his head which is not at all a comfort for Harry.  
  
“Um babe,” Louis says, voice strained, “Remember what I told you about running? Do that now.” And he’s off like a bat in the night, leaving Harry dumbfounded for a second before he finds his bearings and makes his way after Louis, the voice still calling for them. Harry’s impressed at how fast Louis is, swerving throughout the network as if he really knows where he’s going. They reach a fence that he scales without problem, only looking back to help Harry up the barrier. As soon as both their feet hit ground they’re back on the run, Louis pulling Harry into a dark corner hiding behind an empty box and someone’s bags of rubbish. He holds Harry close to him his hand clamped so tight to Harry’s mouth now that it hurts. His own breath is hot on Harry neck, his body heat radiating around the younger boy making him feel impossibly safe, even though he’s pretty sure they’re about to get arrested or something. Shit, his mom’s going to kill him.  
  
But after about five minutes with no further activity, Louis finally loosens his grip on Harry’s face, and braves a peak out around the trash. “I think we’re good. C’mon,” he says reaching out for Harry’s hand and keeping him close. Harry’s pretty sure his heart is still in his throat (and he thinks he may have leaked in his pants a little?), but they’ve come this far, so he knows he has to follow Louis for the long haul. They stop at a building that doesn’t seem much different from the rest, where Louis pulls down the fire escape. Gesturing for Harry to go up first, he keeps a close stance behind him the entire way to the roof.  
  
“Here it is!” Louis exclaims to the world around him. Harry looks around the roof waiting for the big reveal, before finally quirking an eyebrow at Louis. Is he still high, or?  
  
He only laughs at Harry’s bewildered expression. “No silly, not this,” he says point around the roof. _“This,”_ and he comes up behind Harry and pulls his focus to the world around him. The breath catches in Harry’s throat. “Wow,” he manages.  
  
Though the building seems to be just like the others surrounding him, he now notices that it must be quite a bit taller than the others. In fact, it towers from this perspective. He feels like he can see the entire world from here. The bright lights in the busy part of town, the muted aura from the neighborhoods and quiet homes, the lake in the distance. Harry knows he’s always wanted to get out of this town, but it looks absolutely magnificent from this angle. “It’s great, huh?” Louis breaks him from his trance. “I mean it’s not the city, but it’s still pretty cool.”  
  
Harry turns in his embrace until he’s facing Louis. “You’re amazing,” he says reverently.  
  
“And you’re going to be just fine,” Louis replies. “If you can make through tonight, you can make it in the city.”  
  
“Are you implying that you were trying to prepare me for life this entire time?” Harry taunts, skeptical.  
  
“Well of course, you need to able to think on your feet in the city; small town charm won’t get you everywhere,” Louis says tickling his side.  
  
Harry squeals a laugh before reaching down to chase a kiss from Louis. “Well I guess I should be happy my boyfriend has much knowledge, huh?”  
  
“Yep,” Louis nods, biting the inside of his cheek. “You should also be happy I held on to this,” he says raising the only beer bottle that seems to have survived their race from the law.  
  
“Ah you sure do know how to woo a fellow now don’t you?” Harry asks taking a seat on the roof.  
  
“Sure do,” Louis says opening the beverage. “To you, and your immense success in music.” Louis raises the bottle in toast, before taking a swig.  
  
“And to you who’s going to show me the way,” Harry adds on stealing the bottle. “Because lord knows I’d be lost without your vast knowledge.”  
  
“Aw, pish posh; it comes to you with age,” Louis laments and pulls Harry closer as they stare into the skyline, the whole world before them. 

 

   
 **TWO.**  
  
Niall fucking told them all this was a bad idea from the start. But no one ever listens to him, now do they? No one ever takes the Irishman seriously. And now Harry finds himself about to lose the best job he’s ever had. Seems fitting all things considered. He only wishes he could have made it last longer, cherished it more when the going was good. It all started about a month earlier.  
  
\--  
  
Harry was rushing into work. He wasn’t late or anything, but it was his first real job, his first opportunity for experience in the field he would someday be working. Camera bag slung over his shoulder and hoping for the best, he strode into the modeling agency and went right up to the front desk, smile brighter than the sun.  
  
He clears his throat to catch the receptionist’s attention. “Harry Styles,” he states. “I’m here for the photography internship.” He gives her a smile, and she somehow manages to look even more bored as the seconds tick by. Finally, she checks some paper work in front of her as Harry rocks on his heels in anticipation. Giving him one more once over, she hands him a name tag that says nothing more than INTERN in big bold letters. “Don’t take that off while you’re here unless you plan on getting kicked out. Elevators are down that hall,” she drones on pointing to her left. “Go to the third floor. You should find everything you need there.” Harry gives her a cheery smile and a thank you before bouncing off to where she’d pointed him; not even the receptionist’s lackluster demeanor can get him down today.  
  
Exiting the elevator he does eventually find his bearings. A nice lad named Liam checks him in and tells him to start setting up equipment for a shoot they’ll be doing later on today. He calls him optimistic for bringing his camera, but Harry only shrugs. “Don’t take any pictures of the models without being told to though. They’ll have you out of here so fast it’ll make your head spin.”  
  
“But I can take pictures of everything else?” Harry asks, hopeful.  
  
“So long as it doesn’t get in the way of the work you’re assigned,” Liam relents. “You come to me if you have any troubles-- don’t bother anyone else. Understand?”  
  
He’d nodded heartily, and gone straight to work. It’s been all of thirty minutes and Harry is certain this will be the most amazing thing in his life for a long time. And all those visions of grandeur are shattered the minute a certain angel faced boy walks through the door. He’s got perfectly sculpted brown hair that even from across the room looks soft enough to nuzzle into. Harry realizes his eyes are the starkest blue he’s ever seen as they graze across the room. And god his cheekbones; Harry thinks they’re sharp enough to cut glass. This could become a problem. It doesn’t help that the boy’s eyes light up with an intensity that Harry can’t help but return when his eyes fall on him. He seems intrigued for whatever reason and starts making his way over.  
  
“Who are you?” he asks, straightforward. “You don’t normally work here.”  
  
Harry’s taken aback by the boy’s approach. “No I don’t,” he gives as a reply.  
  
“Intern,” the boy that Harry can only assume is a model says picking up the tag around his neck and twisting it between his fingers.  
  
“You catch on fast,” Harry quips, but his mouth is pulled to the side in a smirk so the boy knows he’s joking. His eyes flash up at him at the statement like it’s the best thing he’s heard all day. “Sense of humor,” he notes, “We might have to keep you around.” He pulls playfully on Harry’s tag for good measure.  
  
“Louis,” Harry hears someone call out. He looks up to see what could very possibly be the most attractive person to exist anywhere, ever. This one’s definitely a model, he thinks. It would be an injustice to the entire world, otherwise, a face like that stuck behind the scenes. He comes up to the boy who’s somehow latched himself onto Harry for the past few minutes. “What are you doing?” he asks the blue eyed boy—Louis, Harry recalls. He places his hand at the small of Louis’s back and Harry doesn’t know why but something about the gesture just doesn’t sit right with him.  
  
“Just making a new friend,” Louis answers and his hands let go of Harry opting to instead place one around his friend’s neck, the other lightly sitting on his friend’s collarbone. He looks up at Mr. Attractive all smiles and says, “Are we about ready to start then?”  
  
“Yeah, I think so. C’mon.” and he pulls Louis off without so much as a word to Harry. Rude, he thinks. Either way, he has work to do, and even with the weird models the company’s hired, Harry thinks he’s going to absolutely love this job.  
  
\--  
  
Harry is positively raving when he gets home, telling Niall all about his day in their shared flat. “I think the head photographer really liked me. The other interns were shit—didn’t know anything about when to use the proper lenses. He’s gonna love me by the time I’m done there,” Harry babbles on and on. Niall nods and hums along when appropriate. “The scenery’s nice too, let me tell you those models are fit,” Harry continues. That catches Niall’s attention.  
  
“You’re not going to get yourself in trouble are you?” he interjects.  
  
Harry pauses, confusion riddling his face. “What?”  
  
“With those ‘fit’ models,” Niall clarifies. “Isn’t there some like strict rule about the coworkers not dating each other or something?”  
  
Harry had told Niall all about his interview with the agency and how they had made it very clear that workers co-mingling in ways other than platonic were fiercely frowned upon by the company, which was basically just code for ‘We’ll fire you in a heartbeat.’ And Harry knows he’s had…issues with relationships gone out of hand in the past, but give him a break, he’s only eighteen. Everyone has that dramatic relationship (or in his case relationships) that they get caught in during their teen years. It’s not like he’s looking for anything anyway. Which is why he feels totally confident when he looks at Niall and says, “Trust me, it won’t be a problem.”  
  
“Good,” Niall agrees easily. “You don’t go back for a couple of days right?” he says after a pause. “How’s about we use tonight to celebrate? My treat!”  
  
Harry quirks an eyebrow at his friend.  
  
“Okay, your treat,” Niall amends. “But I’ll make sure you have fun, nonetheless.”  
  
So after dinner they make their way to a club not far from Niall’s campus. It’s a good scene, the DJ really popular with the university kids. Harry’s had a few drinks when Niall leans over to him and says, “There’s a guy over there who’s been watching you,” pointing at the edge of the bar. Sure enough, less than twenty feet away from him is Louis, the picture of amusement. He makes his way over to Harry as soon as they make eye contact, and Harry can’t help but notice how good he looks under the colorful lights of the club they’re in.  
  
“Fancy seeing you here,” the older boy greets him. “Louis Tomlinson,” he says in Niall’s direction.  
  
“Right,” Harry says. “Louis this is my friend Niall. Niall this is Louis. From work.”  
  
Harry hopes the music is too loud for Louis to hear the “Uh oh” Niall mumbles, though he’s pretty sure the model caught on to the elbow jab Harry inconspicuously shoves at Niall’s ribs. Louis, however, only seems to thrive on the banter.  
  
They keep up easy conversation talking about the shoot from earlier that day, and Harry is very proud of himself for keeping his word. He can do this. Easy. Yes, Louis is gorgeous, but that doesn’t mean Harry has to do his normal routine of ruining everything for a pretty face (and a nice arse, I mean, what?). Louis asks him to dance and Harry even goes so far as to politely turn him down. No need to tempt things; he just has to keep business separate from pleasure, that’s all. Yeah, he’s got this, he thinks. That is, until someone appears behind Louis.  
  
“Hey babes,” he says, acknowledging Louis only. “Was wondering where you ran off to.”  
  
“Hey Zayn, you remember Harry right?” Louis chirps, and Harry recognizes the dark haired boy by Louis’s side as the other model from the shoot today.  
“Who?” Zayn quips, and wow, Harry really does not like this guy can he leave? It’s not even the way he acts around Harry; it’s also the way he stands guard of Louis like some sort of territorial dog.  
  
“The new intern from work today?” Louis tries to engage Zayn’s memory.  
  
“Oh right,” Zayn drones. “How’s it going, kid?”  
  
Can Harry punch him?  
  
“Splendid,” he says, jaw tight, and there’s an awkward silence after. Niall clears his throat, but Harry doesn’t bother introducing him. He doesn’t think the four of them will be hanging out all that much anyway. Instead, he lets his eyes graze over where Zayn’s hands dance on Louis’s waist, pulling him closer with every brush of his fingers. Zayn’s eyeing him just as intensely.  
  
“How old are you, exactly?” he asks the curly haired boy, completely interrupting a story Louis was telling Niall about a time he got stuck on his roof.  
  
“Eighteen,” Harry replies, challenging the boy in front of him.  
  
“Wait, you are?” Louis pipes up and his eyes look like they’ve grown to twice their normal size.  
  
“Yeah…” Harry pauses. “Is that weird?”  
  
“No! It’s fine, it’s just you know, hardly any of the interns are that young.” Harry just blinks at him, and Zayn’s got this lazy smirk on his face at the exchange. “You must be really good to start so young,” Louis continues, and Harry takes great pleasure in the way Zayn’s face falls at the turn of the conversation. “You know I started modeling when I was eighteen. Professionally, that is.” Louis says leaning toward Harry.  
  
“Yeah? How old are you now, then?”  
  
“Twenty-one,” he says easily.  
  
And that should not make him more appealing. Really it shouldn’t; it’s just a number. But Harry can’t help but notice the stubble on Louis’s chin looks a little more pronounced than it had a few minutes ago and how his muscles seem so much more taunt under his rolled up sleeves. Niall must notice his change in demeanor as well, because he makes work of “”accidentally”” stepping on Harry’s foot, and Harry takes the hint, excusing himself from the group under the pretense of getting another drink from the bar.  
  
He couldn’t have been gone for more than two minutes for his much needed recovery, but when he comes back he finds Niall sans the two hot models they were just having a conversation with. When his confusion shows clearly on his face Niall shrugs and tells him Zayn had pulled Louis off to the dance floor as soon as Harry’d left. He can see them now, a little ways across the room. Zayn’s got Louis’s back pressed up against his front, leaving no space between them, grinding into the small of his back. He keeps Louis’s head turned away from the bar in what Harry can only assume is on purpose, dammit. He’s broken from his trance watching them though when Niall grabs his face and tells him resolutely, “No.” Harry shrugs him off.  
  
“You can’t, Harry. Think about how much you need this job. Listen to me! You. Can. Not. Do. This.”  
  
“I’m not doing anything, Niall!” he snaps.  
  
“You mean other than drooling?” he makes to mock wipe his friend’s chin and Harry flips him off.  
  
“You know,” Harry tries, “they shouldn’t be doing that either. I’m pretty sure they agreed to the same no dating clause that I did.” He leans against the bar with a hmph. He’s not pouting, he’s not. But it’s not fair that Zayn gets to break the rules and it’s not fair that he just has to sit here and watch, and Jesus fucking Christ, Harry is suddenly raging. He doesn’t mean to keep watching them, but he can’t help putting himself through these bouts of self destruction as he looks over at them with disdain. Another song has lapsed over before he finally mutters, “Fuck it,” and takes off towards them, ignoring Niall’s calls of “Harry you idiot, get back here!”  
  
Louis is all he sees. It’s like he’s a shining light in the dark club and Harry can’t help but gravitate to him, to the warmth that radiates off of him. He feels like he’s on fire when Louis finally spots him, smiling in his direction. He completely ignores Zayn, the least he can do for all the trouble he’s put him through today, and he’s ecstatic to feel how easily Louis comes to him. He makes the most of it, letting his hand grace the small of Louis’s back just above the top of Louis’s arse and shit, is that The Weeknd playing in the background? Clearly this was meant to be.  
  
“Thought you didn’t want to dance,” Louis whispers into the side of his mouth.  
  
“Guess you’re too good to stay away from,” Harry replies.  
  
“Smooth charmer,” Louis jokes, and Harry can see Zayn’s glare in his peripheral, so he figures it’s about as good a time as any to shut Louis up. So he does, leaning down to cover the model’s mouth with his, pulling at the small of his back until he’s up too close against him. If he smirks mischievously off in Zayn’s direction when he pulls away, well, who is it really harming?  
  
\--  
  
Louis really loves his job, but nothing puts him in a better mood than a morning off. He’s humming on his way to the kitchen when he spots Zayn on their couch looking far too pissed for such a great day.  
  
“Aw don’t look at me like that!” he whines at his friends disapproving expression. It’s not like he has any right to. Louis hadn’t even brought Harry back home last night. Granted it wasn’t entirely of his choosing. Right after his kiss with Harry, the younger boy’s little Irish friend had practically dragged him out of the club, leaving Louis practically bent over in startled laughter. Of course, now he had to deal with Zayn. “Come on, Zayn! I barely did anything at all,” he says settling into his friend’s side on the couch. “Don’t be mad at me,” he begs, nuzzling into the dark haired boy’s neck.  
  
“You’re going to get fucking fired,” Zayn says simply.  
  
“It was just a dance,” Louis argues.  
  
“And a kiss.”  
  
That’s enough to give Louis pause. He tries for a different approach. “Thanks for buffering last night.”  
  
“Buffering? I practically had to fuck you on the dance floor to keep him away from you. And even that didn’t work!”  
  
“He was determined, wasn’t he?” Louis laughs. “God, that was so hot.”  
  
Zayn plucks his ear. “You’re going to get fucking fired,” he repeats. “And you better have another job lined up because I’m not paying your half of the rent. You can live on the street.”  
  
Louis ignores him, and when he burrows further into the couch, he is definitely not thinking about the next time he can see he curly haired intern.  
  
\--  
  
The next three weeks are a whirlwind for them. Turns out the night in the club couldn’t just be a one time deal, Harry and Louis gravitating towards each other without ever really trying. Zayn has lightened up on the intern, if only a little, but Harry’s still a little wary around him, not wholly comfortable with how close he and Louis are. It’s not like he should care that much; Louis’ not his boyfriend. But he is his Louis, and Harry feels that’s enough of a right to be protective of him. Niall’s still waiting for the day he comes home crying, talking about how the two of them got caught in a coat closet, forcing him to lose his job. They’re good though, almost perfecting their routines, Louis careful to make sure that Harry doesn’t leave any visible marks on his model perfect skin. “You’re a feisty young one, aren’t you?” Louis will joke to which Harry will bite back with a “Shut up, old man.” It’s invigorating sneaking behind everyone’s back like this, both of them loving the taste of forbidden fruit. Liam cottons on around week two of the Harry-Louis escapades and he pulls Harry to the side one day when they’re the only ones in the studio. He’s not harsh, and he promises not to reveal their secret, but he does make a good point. “Just remember, if you were to get caught, which one of you do you think the agency will be quicker to let go? Their top model or the intern that’s been around for a couple weeks?” Harry throws himself full force into his work after that because if things are going to go to shit, he at least wants to make sure he’s not completely expendable. He’s jittery for three whole days when Liam hints that Harry wouldn’t be the first person to get the boot after getting involved with Louis. It can’t be him; he won’t let it happen.  
  
The thing is, Louis just kind of makes him lose his good sense most of the time. Like with the Zayn thing, he _knows_ there’s nothing going on with him and Louis, but he can’t help but notice how Zayn should be better for him. Because Zayn’s older and he does cool things like smokes and his sleeve looks a lot better than Harry’s odd patchwork of tattoos that he hurriedly got in the excitement of _finally being eighteen omg._ He thinks there’s so much pressure on him to make his time with Louis better and better every time, so the model doesn’t lose interest.  
  
Louis is having the time of his life, not a care in the world. He loves how energetic Harry is about everything. If there’s one thing he’s found out in the past few years, especially as an active member of the Work Force, it’s that being a serious adult is vastly overrated. Being with Harry is refreshing. He determinately ignores Zayn attempt to make him see reason and his pleas of “He’s just a baby, Louis.” What does Zayn know? Harry is definitely no baby. He’s all man—smooth skin and soft curls and hard abs and strong arms that hold him in place on their stolen make out sessions. He thinks there’s nothing he loves more than the feeling of Harry quaking above him, panting his name. His face is always so beautiful as he presses into Louis, the older boy refuses to let them break eye contact. He vaguely wonders if this is how Harry feels when he gets those ‘overpowering urges to catch something on film’ because he want to commit that picture to the deepest recesses of his memory. True, he never expected to have a younger companion such as Harry, but these days he finds himself wondering how he ever got along without one.  
  
It’s half way through the third week. Harry is walking down the corridor fetching coffee, and his lips are puffier than normal, bruised from his (not) boyfriend’s ambush an hour ago. He thinks he can get used to the way Louis seems so small and delicate but can hold the power of a python when he needs to. Maybe his senses have been heightened to everything _Louis._ That could explain why he hears his laugh all the way around the corner and can’t help but go investigate. He almost wishes he hadn’t.  
Louis is standing at the office door of one of the coordinators in charge of the agency. He feels guilty for eavesdropping and is about to turn away when he hears, “Glad we got that all cleared up, Louis. Would hate to have to lose you from the company.”  
  
Well that’s a weird thing to say to someone.  
  
“Yeah,” Louis laughs, and Harry can tell it’s fake, “I wouldn’t like it that much either.”  
  
“Don’t worry. We’ll put the boy in his place. I swear, it’s always the young ones who don’t know how to follow company policy. I know for a fact we told him no inner company relationships when he started here.”  
  
Harry’s heart is in his throat. Did they get found out? How did he not notice? Wait, fuck, was Louis throwing him under the bus?  
  
“Yeah, well I’ve been having quite a time trying to convince him I’m not interested. He’s only a child after all!”  
  
That fucking twat, Harry thinks. He’s absolute livid, the edges of his vision blurred with red when he returns the coffees to their owners. How could Louis do that to him? The least he could have done was cover for him too. He hears a conversation they’d had earlier that month run through his head. Harry had asked what would happen if they were found out and Louis had just laughed and brushed it off with a “You’re eighteen; you’ve got plenty of time to find a better job.” He’d thought the boy was kidding. Harry’s now trashing his way through an equipment closet because the only thing he can do to stop him from punching someone is to angrily throw himself into his work. He almost screams when he hears the “Hey there handsome” behind him. He swivels around on his heel and shoots Louis the coldest look he can muster overjoyed when the older boy instinctively cowers against the doorway. He recovers quickly though, reaching out a hand to touch Harry’s arm, but Harry spits out a “Don’t fucking touch me,” snatching his arm away.  
“Harry, what’s wrong?” Louis asks puzzled.  
  
“Don’t play dumb with me; I’m not an idiot!” Harry has to remind himself to keep his volume under control  
  
Louis just stares at him. “Is this about Zayn again?”  
  
Harry scoffs. “No Louis, it’s not Zayn,” he says as if it should be obvious.  
  
“Oh, James then?”  
  
James? Harry thinks. Isn’t that the assistant photographer’s son? Why would he think this was about him? And then it comes to the curly haired boy. James is about Harry’s age, always making heart eyes at Louis. They’re together! he thinks. All this time he’s been worried about Zayn, he didn’t even think to consider the possibility of someone else. Louis must have some kind of fetish for younger guys. Harry hopes the blush that graces his face can be interpreted as anger because he is so embarrassed. And it’s not like he can even argue his point to Louis because they were never exclusive. All this time, Harry was just a pawn to Louis, too young to see he wasn’t anything special. And now he’s about to lose his fucking internship and he’s so mad he could literally punch a wall. He thinks he does actually, if Louis’s flinch is anything to go by. “Just stay away from me,” he spits, storming out of the closet.  
  
\--  
  
Harry’s feeling sorry for himself. He’d had a couple days off after his meltdown, left to do nothing but wallow in his flat. Niall didn’t say ‘I told you so’ but Harry could still feel the sentiment. The bad thing is, after the past month, Harry’d grown accustomed to taking his problems to Louis because though they’d always joked around, Harry found that Louis could be quite wise when he wanted to. But he couldn’t go to him now. Instead he ignored all his texts and calls and dove into developing photos he’d been putting off for far too long. It was nice being in the dark room just him and his craft. Besides if he was going to get fired, he needed something to pump up his portfolio, didn’t he?  
  
And though he had held a small bit of hope, he’s pretty sure his job termination is inevitable because as soon as he comes in on his first day back, Liam tells him that one of the executives wants to see him in his office. It’s the same one Louis’d been talking to a few days prior. And so Harry is sitting outside his boss’s office, waiting for his doom, and feeling really really sorry for himself.  
  
“Harry, you can come in now,” his boss calls and when he enters the room, he sees the company’s head photographer there as well. He is so fucked.  
  
“Have a seat, Harry. We want to talk to you about your performance.” He gulps. But he’s definitely not expecting what comes next.  
  
\--  
  
Harry’s running across the set, looking high and low when he finally spots him. Louis’s sitting in an empty makeup chair when Harry charges over. “You told them I should get a raise?” he demands. Louis looks up at him surprised. “Look who can finally talk again,” he quips. Harry lets it pass because there are far more important issues at hand. The meeting had gone nothing like he had imagined, his boss not mentioning his inappropriate relationships once. Instead they’d praised his work at the company so far and offered him an extended internship. He’d almost fallen out of his chair when they mentioned how Louis had praised his work as well. “Y-yeah,” he’d stuttered, “I’ve shown him some of my work before.” “You should bring it by sometime,” the head photographer had suggested and Harry felt like he was floating on air. But he was also confused.  
  
“I thought you told them about us,” Harry admits sheepishly. “I overheard you talking the other day…”  
  
“Ohh,” Louis sings. “That explains a lot,” he says before you slaps Harry on the arm. “You dolt! I was talking to him about James.”  
  
Oh right. Because James is a thing. And Harry has to share with James and Louis and James have something going on and. Right.  
  
His dissatisfaction must show on his face because Louis quickly pipes up with, “You know I’m not like seeing James, right?”  
  
“Aren’t you?” Harry asks, and he hates how hopeful he is.  
  
“No! He just..has a thing for me, I guess? They wanted to make sure there was nothing going on, is all. I didn’t mind throwing him under the bus too much. It’s not like he’s going to get the boot being related to the big guys and all.”  
  
Harry blinks at him. “Oh,” he breaths.  
  
“Harry,” Louis shakes his head with a pout. I’m appalled you would think such horrible things of me!”  
  
“I…” Harry trails, at a loss for words. Thirty minutes ago he thought his world was over, and now…  
  
“But you called him a child,” Harry remembers. “We’re basically the same age, I mean is that—like, when you think of me do you..” he can’t finish his sentence properly.  
  
Louis flat out laughs at him, and Harry almost seems affronted. “Babe,” Louis states, “You know James isn’t even seventeen right?”  
  
“What?” Harry gasps.  
  
“Yeah,” Louis nods, “he just looks mature for his age.” He looks at Harry patiently. “I mean, I know you’re young but I would never go that young. Christ.”  
Harry thinks he’s flying.  
  
“Eighteen, however,” Louis says rising from his chair, “now that’s hot. I can get on with eighteen.”  
  
Harry smirks and pulls him closer. “Okay so what if I told you sometimes I am young and irrational and jealous and stupid and just really _eighteen,_ but I think you’re amazing and I’d love it if we could just forget the past couple of days.” He lets his nose skim Louis’s chin, begging.  
  
“I’d say it’s my elderly duty to forgive and forget. I have to set an example, you know.” Harry chuckles into his skin, and Louis arms come up to trace his back.  
  
“I’ve missed you,” the older boy hints hoping Harry will get it.  
  
“Mmm,” Harry hums and then, “Bathroom on the fourth floor?”  
  
“I’m right behind you,” Louis agrees, and they both act like spies ducking out of the empty room.  
  
And maybe it’s stupid and unprofessional, but there’s just something about being with each other that they both find irresistible. They think, for now, they’re willing to risk it.  
  
   
 **THREE.**  
  
Louis barely has his feet through the threshold of his flat before Harry has him pinned against the door. His eyes have gone a steely green, showing an intensity Louis rarely ever sees in him. He’s glaring. And it takes everything Louis has not to cower under his gaze. Eyes shooting daggers at Louis, hands braced fiercely on either side of his head, he leans in slowly until his mouth is just below Louis’s ear.  
  
“You thought you were fucking hilarious tonight, didn’t you?”  
  
Louis tries to make himself seem unphased by the close proximity and the heat behind Harry’s voice, but he can’t help the audible gulp that escapes him looking up at Harry. The curly haired boy is giving him no space to think, let alone move, caging him in with his decidedly larger frame. His nose starts skimming Louis’s neck, but somehow it feels more like a threat than an endearment. It definitely does not turn him on when his younger boyfriend takes this much control in their relationship. But he doesn’t have time to contemplate how much he may or may not like this part of his companion. Harry’s waiting for an answer.  
  
“Um..” Louis manages to choke out, and he mentally kicks himself for how easily he allows Harry to make him loose his composure.  
  
Harry makes to grab at his chin and jerks his face around rather roughly, until Louis has no choice but to stare him straight in the eyes, unmoving. “Were having the best time weren’t you? Embarrassing me like that in front of all of your friends.” Harry practically snarls the statement and _Jesus Christ_ when did his boyfriend turn into this fiery piece of man before him?  
  
Admittedly, Harry probably has a point. Louis had been far from his normal endearing self on their outing that night. His friends had a habit of taking the piss out of him for seeing his obviously younger boyfriend, Harry a mere fresh faced eighteen year old compared to Louis’s wiser twenty-one years. Granted there isn't much difference between them, everyone knows that, but that never stops Louis’s friends from their constant charges against Louis as a “cradle robber.” Tonight though, Louis had taken it upon himself to beat them to the punch, joining in the charade, rather than being the butt of the joke. Of course, that alternative had left Harry in the cold. Maybe he should have drawn the line at suggesting they pour Harry’s beer in a bottle to make him feel more comfortable. Or maybe he should have drawn it at trying to put a makeshift bib around his neck when he went for a snack. And, ok, maybe he shouldn’t have started singing a lullaby to Harry when he started pouting at Louis’s antics. Come to think of it, there’s a lot of things he could think of that could have been done differently that night. To be fair, he’d had more than enough to drink, and he did eventually sober up (it’s Zayn’s fault really, he can be a right bad influence on him when he wants to be), but Harry was already past easy forgiving. And Louis had tried, like, really really tried to make it up to Harry, being extra affectionate for the remainder of the night. He’d done his best to make him see it wasn’t a big deal.  
  
 _Come on baby, it was just a joke. I didn’t mean anything by it_ , he kept repeating on the cab ride home. But the normally resilient Harry wasn’t having any of it. Harry was angry. And towering over Louis like he is now, Louis realizes that it’s much too late for him to make amends; it’s all in Harry’s hands now. His breath is ghosting over Louis’s, and Louis can feel his pulse pounding in his ears.  
  
“Looks like I’m going to have to teach you a lesson.” Harry says, and it can’t be more than a whisper, but Louis can feel it echoing throughout his body as if Harry had screamed if from the rooftops. “I think you need to be reminded that I’m not actually a child.” And shit, is it necessary for him to look at Louis like that? He feels like some helpless prey under his gaze, powerless and defenseless against the predator before him. Using his knee, Harry knocks Louis’s legs apart pressing his thigh in the space he’s created. He tries not to reveal how overjoyed he is to find Louis half hard already beneath him, but the satisfied smirk breaks through without his consent. He quickly recovers though, pressing further into Louis with an elongated rut before leaning down to whisper, “Bedroom. I want you stripped down when I get in there.” For the first time in what feels like years, he steps back, and Louis has a chance to breath. Regaining his bearings he makes swift work of escaping Harry’s towering presence and is half way across his small living room before he stutters in his steps and looks back toward Harry. The younger boy still has all his attention zeroed in on him, though not yet moved an inch from his place by the door. He cocks his head in the direction of Louis’s bedroom with a sense of finality that anyone would be a fool to question, and so, Louis finds himself scurrying back on his path to his room, heart in his throat and stomach doing somersaults.  
  
He strips off his kit the second he makes it into the room, climbing onto the bed and bracing himself for whatever Harry has planned for him. His big blue eyes are wide and questioning when Harry finally follows him inside and Louis thinks he might jump out of his skin from the anticipation. Harry gives him a cursory once over as he makes his way to the bedside table, pulling out a condom and a small tube. He places them on the bed and makes work of taking off his own clothes, secretly taking pleasure in the way Louis’s breathe echoes throughout the room. Once free, he positions himself over Louis and uses his fingernails to scratch down the older boy’s chest.  
  
“I’m not a child, Louis,” he spits menacingly, looking at Louis as if he dares him to say any different.  
  
“I-I know,” Louis barely gets out. His eyes are almost black now, only a thin strip of blue circling his pupils.  
  
“Do you? You seem to have forgotten that earlier tonight..” Harry trails off letting his head trail down to bite harshly at Louis’s nipple. He lets out a gasp, but struggles to offer much more. “Was just joking,” he tries again.  
  
“You weren’t funny.” Harry deadpans, and that effectively shuts Louis up. “Gonna show you how not funny you were,” Harry says reaching for the lube. “Up,” he commands, shuffling between Louis’s thighs, and Louis rises so that his legs are positioned on either side of Harry, his arse posed like a gift from the heavens. Making sure his fingers are slicked up generously, Harry pushes inside of Louis, _hard._ And okay, _fuck_ , Harry’s never gone straight for two before, and it’s enough to have Louis cry out already.  
  
“Oh god, Harry!” Louis yelps, back arcing off the bed as Harry starts scissoring him.  
  
“Don’t like being taken off guard do you?” Harry asks, and Louis gets the hidden message behind it, and he would feel bad, really he would, if Harry wasn’t making him feel so good right now. He blabbers out a lame apology, but Harry isn’t having it, leaning down to shush him with his mouth. He lips are hard and rough against Louis’s, and he licks hotly inside making Louis groan beneath him. When he adds a third finger, Harry can feel him trying to rise up and get more friction against his cock, but he ignores all of Louis’s advances. Ever impatient, Louis tries to reach down himself and give his cock the attention it’s screaming for, but Harry knocks his hand away before he can make contact. “No,” he says, “You don’t deserve it,” and he almost caves right then and there at the sound of Louis’s whimper. “You’ll have to earn that privilege back like a good boy,” he continues trying to ignore his own hand’s twitch because he’s always loved the way Louis felt all hot and full in his grasp.  
  
Leaning away from the boy and pulling his fingers out, Harry locks the way Louis looks, frustrated and begging him to come back, to the confines of his memory. Louis bites his lip watching Harry slick himself up, and he looks so fucking eager when Harry approaches him, that Harry can’t help the sweet kiss he just has to place behind Louis’s ear. He pushes inside, past Louis’s initial resistance, and his stomach is twisted so tightly at the way Louis moans into his ear, breath hot on his skin. Making sure Louis won’t get any ideas, he takes the older boys hands and pins them above his head, forcing him to be completely at the whim of whatever Harry wants. If the way Louis is writhing beneath him is any indication, Harry doesn’t think he minds too much. Using one hand to hold Louis’s arms in place, Harry takes the other to pull Louis’s thigh up higher around his waist, and he’s convinced that Louis’s response is what makes his world go round.  
  
“Please, Harry, please please, just let me touch you, please baby?” he whines, and Harry finally relents slacking his grip on Louis’s arms. They go flying to Harry’s back and the nap of his neck in no time, and even Harry has to admit that yeah, he likes this arrangement better. He’s rocking into Louis relentlessly now, his boyfriend on the brink of completely nonsense syllables. Leaning down, and catching Louis’s earlobe into his mouth he says simply, “Don’t come until I say so.”  
  
That command itself is almost enough to push Louis over the edge, yet somehow he keeps it together. But his skin is too hot, too tight for his body and every one of his nerve endings is screeching, begging for release. And Harry feels so bloody fantastic inside of him, sliding in and out with such practice, hitting his prostate with every filthy thrust. Harry’s not exactly helping either because every thrust comes with a slew of words for Louis.  
  
 _Not a child. You’re the one who has to do everything I say. Don’t you? Can’t do anything unless I say, can you? I’m in charge._  
  
And Louis loves every second of it if the chants of Yes, yes Harry, you’re in charge I’ll do whatever you want, baby yes please! are anything to go by.  
  
Even after all that shit tonight, Harry just wants to please him. Just want Louis to look at him like he’s done a good job and praise him for it. He wants Louis begging for him. So he lifts Louis’s legs up a little higher until they’re braced on his shoulders and gets the feeling Louis likes this new angle. “Uuugh, Harry, _fuck,_ ” he growls and Harry can see his cock painfully hard and leaking between them. God, he’s never wanted anyone more. He makes his thrusts more vigorous, hoping to translate how much he needs Louis, how much he craves him all time, how much he could never get enough. Louis looks as if he’s trying to says something, but the words are lost in space, only leaving him to create fish mouths at the ceiling.  
  
 _“Please_ ,” he finally manages and it feels like the most profound thing anyone has ever said. “Please let me come Harry, please.” Harry can feel Louis’s toes curling, and his scalp actually hurts from how hard the older boy is pulling on his locks of hair. He lets his gaze cover Louis’s face and sees his eyelashes are wet and there’s a tear creeping out; he looks so good Harry himself could start crying. Letting his legs slide off his shoulders and wrapping them firmly around his hips again, Harry finally gives in, not letting his eyes leave Louis’s for a second.  
  
“Yeah baby,” he relents, “Come for me,” and he thinks he can write cheesy sonnets for the rest of his life about the face Louis makes when he comes undone, mouth agape, cheeks hollow, eyelashes fluttering. It’s more than enough to push Harry over the edge, biting down onto Louis’s neck and sucking the bruise until it’s prominent and harsh.  
  
Then the only sounds of the room are their heavy pants and occasional whimpers on Louis’s part. Harry finally regains enough of himself to pull out, tying up the condom and taking it to the restroom. He returns with a towel ready to clean Louis up, but is halted when he sees the hundred watt smile that graces Louis’s lips upon reentering the room.  
  
“What?” he asks, suspicious.  
  
Louis reaches his hand out beckoning Harry to come toward him. He does, sliding easily into the bed, accepting Louis’s embrace. “Wait until the lads hear how amazing my super hot eighteen year old boyfriend is in bed,” he says and Harry doesn’t even have time to respond before Niall passes the doorway with a casual, “Trust me, we heard.” Both boys’ heads snap up at that, just in time to see Zayn pass by as well. “Shut the fucking door next time, you twats,” he says slamming the bedroom door shut with an eyeroll.  
  
There’s a pregnant pause before Harry and Louis both collapse into a fit of uproarious laughter. “I’ll tell them anyway,” Louis says between snorts, “tell the whole world how wonderful you are. We’ll be the envy of every couple, everywhere.”  
  
“Shut up, Lou,” Harry says fondly, giving Louis one last wipe down. When pulls him closer for sleep, he wonders how he got so damn lucky, and Louis’s wondering the same.  
   
  
 **FOUR.**  
  
Harry doesn’t know what he was expecting during his first semester of university, but it definitely wasn’t that he would fall in love with one Louis Tomlinson. Ok well, maybe he wasn’t in love with him. And you know, maybe he’d only talked to the older boy once, but it was a really nice conversation okay, shut up. The point is one day he's studying under a tree when a football comes rolling towards him, and he’s never been happier to be interrupted when Louis Tomlinson himself comes running up to him in pursuit of the ball.  
  
“Hey mate, sorry to get in your way there.”  
  
“N-no it’s no problem, really,” he says handing the ball back to Louis with round eyes. His hair is impossibly shiny in the sunlight, falling into his cerulean blue eyes and sticking to his temple with the streaks of sweat that have formed there. Harry kind of wants to lick him. Except, he’s pretty sure that would be weird, and Harry’s trying to go for cool here, which he’s probably failing at considering he just spent the past minute staring at the boy in front of him, jaw kind of slack. _Smooth_ he thinks to himself. But to be fair, Louis seems to be staring just as much.  
  
“I’ve meet you before,” Louis says matter of factly. “Sorry what was your name?” he asks.  
  
Harry has to stop himself from screaming and skipping in a circle. “Harry,” he manages, squeals only internal, thank god.  
  
“Harry,” Louis repeats and Harry wants to record make it his lullaby when he goes to sleep, put on his tombstone _Louis Tomlinson said my name once and it was the most amazing thing to ever happen ever._ “I’m Louis, by the way,” and Harry almost scoffs because as if he would forget this beautiful specimen in front of him. Instead he just nods and says “Yeah, I think I remember meeting you once.” _That’s it Harry! Play it cool._ He’s so proud of himself.  
  
“Yeah, I meet a lot of people at parties and stuff, sometimes the names just get lost in the shuffle, I guess. The alcohol certainly doesn’t help, yeah?” he laughs. He’s like laughing with Harry, joking about. They’re like best friends, ohmygod.  
  
Harry laughs too, mostly because Louis is infectious, but partially because Louis thinks he met him at a party. As if little freshman eighteen year old Harry could ever run in the same circles as university golden boy, Louis Tomlinson. He’s twenty-one for god’s sake, completely out of Harry’s league. He’s a friend of Harry’s sister (how embarrassing) and he’d heard Gemma mention him a couple of times paying no mind to the people in her inner circle. It wasn’t until one day he was fixing a shelf in her dorm room that Louis dropped by, and Harry realized the magnitude of how much he yearned to never talk about anything but Louis Tomlinson ever again. He’d been so nice, even helping Harry for a couple of minutes before he got what he needed and ran off to class. And it wasn’t just that he was gorgeous—even though he clearly was, surely he’s done some kind of modeling before—it was also that he was funny and sincere. Harry’s never had someone make him light up as easily as he had spending those five minutes with Louis. He’s seen him around a lot since then, come to recognize his laugh and the boisterous way he carries himself around campus. However, he’s never been able to wrangle up the courage to go over and introduce himself again. Yes, Louis may have been nice that one time, but Harry highly doubted he’d want him stuck to his coattails like some lost puppy. Also there’s these things called words and Louis’s face and how. Nope, nope, nope, Harry was always much better off keeping his distance and admiring from afar. Not that he’s creepy or anything. No! He’s just…in lov—not in love, infatuated. So, so infatuated and he’d give his left arm if he heard that Louis had a thing for one armed guys, which he probably doesn’t, but if he did, and how exactly does Harry manage to ramble inside his own head? Jesus Christ.  
  
Just as he’s about to come to his senses however, he hears someone call Louis over—one of the guys he was playing with earlier. “Louis c’mon!” he yells, looking confused as to why it’s taking him so long.  
  
“Shut it, Liam! I’m having a conversation!”  
  
Harry instantly decides that whoever this Liam character is, he’s now at the bottom of Harry’s shit list. How dare he try to take Louis away from him? _His_ Louis? Goddamit he’s trying to build a relationship here! But much to his disliking, Louis is now backing away going back to the group of guys he was with before. “Sorry I really should get back to the game though,” he says so apologetic.  
  
“Yeah it’s totally fine,” Harry laments even though it’s not, it’s not, it’s absolutely anything but fine. But what can he do?  
  
“I’ll see you around, yeah Harry?” Louis calls halfway over to his friends again.  
  
“Yeah, yeah! I’ll see you!” Harry waves back, and maybe his hand stays frozen in the air for longer than is normally necessary but he’s not going to question actions of the heart.  
  
It’s the next day when he goes into the university coffee shop that things pick up again. He’d seen the HELP WANTED sign out earlier that week and after much deliberating he’d finally decided to apply because let’s face it, if he was ever going to leave this campus, he needs money to do it.  
  
Seeing Louis there is just a cherry on top.  
  
He's zooming around the clientele making sure everyone is comfortable and happy when he hears the door chime. “Welcome to Java Jolt,” he says cheerily before looking up to see who was in the doorway. “Harry, my boy!” he exclaims once noticing him, and Harry doesn’t think he could be floating more than he is now realizing Louis remembered his name. “What can I do for you?” he asks coming over.  
  
Harry’s tongue is stuck in his throat, but he manages to lift the application he’s already filled out in answer.  
  
“Oh you’re applying for the job? That’s great! Yeah, sit over there, I’ll be right with you,” he says pointing Harry in the direction of a small table in the corner. Intimate, Harry thinks. Louis’s back in no time rubbing his hands on the apron tied around his waist and wow, how can someone look this good covered in dough and flour? He smiles when he approaches.  
  
“So, Harry,” he says, “Let me see that application of yours.” He extends his hand and Harry almost falls over when their fingers graze each other. But he doesn’t. Because he’s cool, you see.  
  
“Are you like, a manager?” Harry inquires.  
  
“Student assistant, so kind of? Basically I’m just in charge when our real managers can’t make it in or they have meetings or something. Which would be now.” He glances back at the application. “So you have work experience?”  
  
“Yeah, um, I worked in a bakery for a while. And I figured coffee shop, bakery, should be about the same.”  
  
“It should,” Louis agrees, biting his lip and furrowing his brow at Harry. “How about this,” he says dropping the paper to the table and leaning across it, moving closer to Harry. _Don’t you dare touch his eyelashes, Harry. I will never forgive you_ he thinks  
  
“We’re drowning here today, really shorthanded. So here’s the deal, you work a shift with us right now, and if you don’t burn the place down the job’s all yours.” He sits back and quirks an eyebrow at Harry, and there’s so much raw hope in his eyes, Harry is powerless to say no.  
  
His shift goes really really well, he and Louis weaving effortlessly throughout the student customers, refilling coffee, delivering pastries, joking between orders. For whatever reason, Louis seems to find Harry endearing, laughing full force at all of his jokes even though Harry is sure they’re not that funny. After one joke, Louis walks around for a full 15 minutes later just repeating “he thought his neck was his face” under his breath and okay, even Harry knows that joke was shit, but it causes Louis so much joy, he can’t even be bothered to point it out. When the shift ends and the lunch rush has calmed down a bit, Louis flips the sign in the window to ON BREAK and tells everyone to take a breather.  
  
Harry plops down onto one of the plush couches, closes his eyes for only a second before he feels someone watching him. He looks up to see Louis’s beaming smile covering his face and can’t help but return it. “You were brilliant,” Louis praises. “You got the job, by the way. Bring me you class schedule tomorrow and we’ll work out your times, yeah?”  
  
“Yeah, sounds great,” Harry agrees. “Thanks,”  
  
“Hey you earned it,” Louis says squeezing in next to Harry and though Harry has grown increasingly comfortable around the older lad in the past couple hours, that doesn’t stop his skin from catching a chill where Louis brushes up against him or his inner monologue from shouting “Yes Yes Yay STAY!”  
  
“In fact,” Louis continues, oblivious to Harry’s internal freakout, “I think we should all take you out to celebrate tonight. Shift would have been shit without you.” He looks up at Harry from beneath his eyelashes. “So what do you say? Are you free?”  
  
He considers being coy and giving an excuse about having to check his other plans, but he’s pretty sure the ‘yes’ escapes him before Louis even has the chance to finish his question.  
  
And that’s how Harry finds himself at a uni party with Louis fucking Tomlinson of all people when just 48 hours ago he’d been in his bedroom only dreaming of the prospect of even talking to him. And now he’s at a party with him. They’re practically on a date! Except that there’s another five people with them from the coffee shop and a good hundred more people surrounding them. But he’s the only one Louis personally invited, so he counts it as a win. He’d gotten Louis to notice him. What did everyone else accomplish with their day? Nothing this exciting, he bets. When Louis takes his waist and leads them into the kitchen of the flat, Harry is absolutely floating on air.  
  
Until he makes eye contact with his sister that is. Fuck, how did he overlook this possibility? He tries to duck away before it can get any worse, but _obviously his sister hates him_ because she chooses that moment to call out to him. “Harry?” she says, eyebrows drawn. Louis looks at him questioningly. “You know, Gemma?” he says with a smile, before, “Wait…Harry _Styles_? Are you two related?”  
  
“Yeah, Harry’s my little brother,” and wow can the world just swallow him whole right here and now? “How do you know Harry?” she directs the question to Louis.  
  
“Oh Harry and I are old friends now,” he says wrapping an arm around Harry’s shoulder, pulling him closer. “He started work at Java today. Saved my arse, he did.”  
  
“Oh you got the job? You could have told me that, you little bugger,” and she comes over and ruffles his curls because like he said _she hates him._  
  
“Wait, if you two are siblings, how come I’m just now seeing you around, Harry?”  
  
“Well he’s only been going here for a couple of months, Lou,” Gemma says as if it’s obvious. And Harry shouldn’t have these feelings toward his sister but he can’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy at the fact that she’s so close to him, close enough to joke around and call him Lou and why can’t that be him?  
  
“You’re a transfer then?” Louis asks, eyes bright.  
  
“Um..” Harry stutters, and welp he’s never going to get the chance to get close to the older boy now the way this is blowing up in his face. Gemma still hasn’t caught on to Harry’s state of crisis, eyebrows still scrunched like she’s missing something. _Seriously what kind of sister are you?_ Harry thinks desperately attempting to ignite some kind of sibling telepathy because c’mon Gemma!  
  
“No, silly, Harry’s a freshman…” Gemma trails off. That’s it; she’s dead to him. Harry has no sister.  
  
Louis stills a little next to his side. “Harry? How, um, how old are you exactly?” Harry feels like his world just caved in.  
  
“Ahem,” he clears his throat, “Eighteen,” he says avoiding eye contact with everyone. There’s an awkward silence that coats the room and Harry doesn’t know if he’s more hurt or relieved when someone calls Louis away to check something out in the living room. “I’ll be right back, okay?” he whispers to Harry before turning out of the room. As soon as he’s gone Harry turns to focus on his sister.  
  
“Gemma!” he whines.  
  
“What is going on Harry?” she asks still obviously confused. Harry goes to rest his elbows on the bar and lets his head hide in his arms because literally all he wants right now is to disappear. “Haz?” Gemma asks softer, letting her hand pat the crown of Harry’s head. “What is it?”  
  
Harry gives a heavy sigh. “You know how sometimes you see me with my roommate, and he’s always teasing me about that guy I’m in love with,” he mumbles, barely audible into the countertop.  
  
“Yeah…” Gemma trails.  
  
Harry finally raises his head and gestures towards the doorway Louis just exited from, quirking an eyebrow.  
  
“Oh, you—“ Gemma cuts her own self off.  
  
“Yes,” Harry sighs, “And you just made me look like a fool in front of him, so you know, thanks for that.”  
  
“Aw Harry I’m so sorry,” Gemma tries to rectify the situation, a blush rising in her cheeks.  
  
“It’s fine, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t blame you.” Harry quickly amends. “It’s just, fuck, you know? It lasted all of one day.” He looks down at his fingers, trying to contain the sadness that threatens to overtake him. “I think I’m just going to go though.”  
  
Gemma makes to follow him, but Harry stops her. “No, you stay. Have fun. Tell him I got sick or something.” He gives her a pitiful little smile and moves to the door, careful not to have Louis or any of his other coworkers notice him. He makes it all the way outside before he realizes he actually has no idea where he is. He opts to just sit on the steps feeling a bit helpless until he can clear his head.  
  
“Harry?” he hears a voice call his name. Dammit, he should have just kept walking. He peaks up sheepishly from his spot on the steps to see Louis looking at him with confusion in his eyes, and a hint of a smile on his lips. God, he must think Harry’s completely pathetic.  
  
“Hey, um, you didn’t have to like, follow me out or anything. I was just gonna head back to campus,” he says trying to put on a brave face.  
  
“Did I scare you away? Is it my face?” Louis asks mock affronted. How Louis can make him laugh even when he feels at his worse is beyond him. He feels his presence rather than sees it as Louis takes a seat beside him. Well if this is the last chance he’ll get to see Louis outside of just being coworkers, simply acquaintances, he wants to make the most of it. He tries to commit the way Louis’s face looks to memory, how his eyes crinkle when he smiles, exactly how his mouth pulls up when he feels humored.  
  
“Why do you look at me like that?” Louis says trying to fight a blush.  
  
“Like what?” Harry asks though he’s pretty sure he knows what Louis is talking about.  
  
“Like you want to eat me?” And yeah, that about sums up how Harry feels towards Louis one hundred percent of the time. As embarrassing as it is to be called out on it, Harry can’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. Louis pokes at his dimple when he sees it appear. “You know Harry, I think there’s a thing or two I can teach you about how to be subtle.”  
  
“Really now?” Harry asks, looking up at Louis.  
  
“Yeah,” Louis replies nodding vigorously. “For example,” he says leaning closer to Harry’s ear. “Have you been able to tell how into you I’ve been for the past two days?”  
  
Clearly Harry is dreaming because in no world would Louis Tomlinson be insinuated that he sees Harry as more than he’s friend’s little brother. Except, it feels real. And Louis is still there breathing on his neck. So, maybe…?  
  
“Did my sister put you up to this?”  
  
And this time it’s Louis’s turn to laugh. “I promise your sister has nothing to do with it.” Harry looks at him skeptically. “Really!” Louis yells, and Harry does not giggle okay he may only be eighteen but he is still a man and men don’t giggle, so. “Besides,” Louis continues, “I think it’s kind of hot that you’re eighteen. I could have fun with this,” and his smile turns mischievous.  
  
“Are you planning on corrupting me, Louis?” Harry asks making his eyes big with mock innocence.  
  
“Let’s get you some shots, my boy!” Louis says in answer, rising up and reaching his hand down for Harry. “I’ve got much to teach you about life!” When Harry rises he realizes for the first time that he’s actually a good head taller than Louis, towering over him to an extent. They’re chest to chest with Louis smiling up at him like he’s just been given a gift.  
  
“Lesson number one,” he says, “When the object of your affection is this close, you take advantage of it.” And then he’s leaning up, using the tips of his toes to take him in pursuit of Harry’s lips. When they finally connect, they both think that yeah, maybe this age difference isn’t such a bad thing. In fact, maybe it’ll be a great one.

**Author's Note:**

> Woo! So this was supposed to be a small collection of drabbles, and it turned into this monster. I wrote 90% of it in one day, so apologies if it doesn't flow just right. Feedback is still appreciated though either here or on my [tumblr](http://www.wildhalos.tumblr.com) Happy age gap, everyone!


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